Maybe
by snarryvader81
Summary: Blood stained Harry Potter's hands now. In the eerie calm following a battle, Harry reflects on killing a Death Eater for the first time. Warnings: [implied] SLASH  Severus SnapeHarry Potter, very slightly implied mpreg


Blood stained my hands now.

In a way, I guess, it always had. My parents died for me, but I hadn't actually _killed_ them. Quirrell died when he touched me, but technically, he was as good as dead the moment Voldemort possessed him. Cedric died because he had the misfortune to come in between Voldemort and myself, but, then again, I hadn't known that the cup was a portkey.

So many deaths, yet I somehow manage to not be held accountable. Even though, deep down, I blame myself, and I know other people blame me, too.

But now, the evidence laid unmoving on the muddy ground before me.

Harry James Potter was a murderer.

Oh, I guess that someone like Dumbledore might tell me that it was for the greater good and that it wasn't really _murder_ since it was, _technically_, a war, and I suppose that someone like Mad Eye Moody might congratulate me, tell me that the scum was a Death Eater anyway and had it coming.

And maybe he did.

Maybe the dead man before me was undeniably evil, so deep in the dark arts and immersed in Lord Voldemort's teachings of hate and violence and pureblood supremacy that no good remained in him.

But - he was a person.

He had parents and a childhood and friends and likes and needs and wants and emotions - he was human. He was _alive_.

And now he wasn't.

Because of me.

Because of two little words and a flick of Harry Potter's wand.

Isn't it incredible how life can be put to an end so easily?

A life - maybe the man before me was once an outgoing child, with a happy-go-lucky disposition. Maybe, a long time ago, he got good grades. Maybe his parents were Death Eaters, and maybe there was always a shadow in the back of his mind - would he one day have to join Voldemort? Be Marked?

Maybe he told his parents that it would be an honor to serve their Lord, but deep inside he screamed out in refusal, saying he would rather do anything than torture and kill on command.

Maybe he went to Hogwarts and was sorted. Maybe he played quidditch and liked to read. Maybe, just maybe, his favorite subject was transfiguration and he wanted to get a mastery in it.

Maybe he went to a university, and while he was there, he met someone.

My heart jumped. Maybe he had children. Did my actions, my spell, just leave a woman or a man without a husband, a child without a father?

My thoughts flashed back to Severus and our daughter, safe behind the walls of Hogwarts. What would it be like for him if I would suddenly be killed?

My wand slipped unnoticed from my limp hand as I continued to study the dead Death Eater - the dead _man_ - before me.

Maybe, just hours previous, he watched as his wife rocked their little boy to sleep, the happiness of the moment overshadowed by the ever-present threat of being Summoned.

And then, maybe, when his Mark burned, he kissed his wife goodbye, not realizing that it was the last time he would ever see her again.

Because only hours later, I would kill him.

"Harry!"

I force myself to look away from the man at the sound of Nymphadora Tonks' voice.

The woman is dirty and covered in cuts and rapidly developing bruises. Her hair is a rusty brown color instead of its normal pink.

"We've gotta go, Harry - Voldemort might be sending more Death Eaters."

I nod slowly, stooping down to pick up my wand. "Where–" My voice cracks slightly. "Where are we going?"

"Hogwarts," replies Tonks, looking rather happy at the thought.

I can't help but smile bitterly. I've lived another day. I'll get to see Severus and my daughter again.

If there's one thing war has taught me, it is that life is unpredictable. Its full of maybes.

Maybe, this will be the last time I'll ever see them again.

Maybe, I'll watch as Severus rocks our daughter to sleep, the simple joy of the moment overshadowed by the threat of Voldemort which has been steadily growing in the back of our minds.

Maybe, I'll be called out to battle, and I'll kiss Severus before I leave, not realizing that its that last time I'll ever see him again.

But maybe - maybe, things might get better.

Maybe Voldemort will be defeated.

Maybe the war will end.

Maybe Severus and I will have more children, and maybe we'll grow old together.

Maybe we'll die peacefully of old age in our bed, the name of Lord Voldemort long forgotten.

Maybe . . .

* * *

**Author's Note:** This thought just hit me and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. I'm not entirely sure where the idea came from, but . . .

-snarryvader81 (aka Anna)


End file.
